A strange expression for someone who has just witnessed a fight, Jaz thought. Especially me against the scariest woman in the Pack. Possibly the whole planet.
He continued to watch her, to a point where she thought he wasn't going to say anything, until he finally opened his mouth. “Come with me,” he said in a low, gentle voice.
She was sure she detected amusement as he said it.
People were still watching, though some had gone back to their workout.
Nik scanned the room locking onto those who were still staring and bellowed, “Alright, people, show's over! I want to see you sweating blood by the time I get back!”
Jaz eyed him uneasily as he said it, then turned her gaze back to the floor.
He led her to the office off the gym and shut the door behind him. Then he closed the blinds and turned to face Jaz, studying her closely. A breath was held captive in her throat as his eyes caressed her skin.
“Sit down over here,” he instructed in a quiet voice. He lightly gripped her arms and led her to the office chair. His office chair. Not the smaller chair facing it. She didn't know why but this tiny detail pleasantly surprised her.
“Let me get you a wet cloth,” he said and stepped into an adjoining room. As he was rummaging around in cupboards she looked around the office. Her eyes hovered over the sparse, worn furniture, finding nothing interesting. She spun her chair round to look at the bookcase behind her. It was stuffed to the brim with countless books, knick-knacks and photographs. The photographs caught her eye.
The first one she focused on was of two boys; one of them she suspected was Driver's 'charming' younger brother Swain. The other dark-eyed boy could only have been Driver. His hair was long, black and slightly waved, flicking out at the sides. They looked about twelve and seven years old, though she wasn't sure what their real age gap was. She still didn't know Driver's true age, but she guessed about late twenties.
Another was of the two brothers with a striking man in his late thirties. He was handsome and looked a lot like Swain with his light brown hair and warm almond eyes. He had a fierce jaw and a thin-lined lip, removing the boyish good looks that set Swain apart from him.
She heard water running for a moment before Driver stepped out of the room with a clean cloth; droplets dripped from it as he approached.
“Is that your father?” she cocked her chin towards the photo. Driver bobbed his head before pressing the cloth to her sore cheek. She flinched and he rested his hand on her shoulder, as if grounding her. She dared to look right up into his eyes and saw his lips were pressed together, a set frown on his face. His sad eyes lingered on her cheek as he cleaned it. From his silence, she suspected the topic of his father was a painful one and didn't want to upset him further.
She felt self-conscious as he examined her in silence -his gentle touch setting off firecrackers in her belly. She tried to think of something else.
She scanned over the other pictures of gym members; some she recognized, others she didn't. There was a photo of Maria with Driver, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. Maria looked at least ten years younger and much happier. Her beauty was apparent in this photo. Jaz suspected it had been taken before Maria's late husband died. The contrast of the Maria in the photo to how she was now, made Jaz smile sadly as she studied it.
Nik then told her to turn her face, which twinged her neck. He placed his hand around the back of her neck, inspecting it. “It's badly bruised,” he said after a moment.
Jaz couldn't speak; the warm flutter under her skin as he touched her felt so good. She breathed heavily.
Focus on something else. Anything else.
From this angle she had full view of the four paintings on the wall opposite. Each one beautifully captured wolves in a moonlit horizon, surrounded by forests and mountains. They all posed proudly; powerful and stunning. And a little arrogant, Jaz thought.
The fourth painting, on the right side closest to the desk was her favourite. She gazed at it much longer than the other three. It was a picture of a lone wolf, white as snow, standing daintily by a still lake, giving the whole painting a distinctively feminine appearance. The moonlight reflected across the water, and the white wolf was gazing into it, as if unsure of its own reflection. The posture of the wolf was uncertain, cautious, yet amusingly curious. Jaz connected with this painting because she saw herself standing there. It was unnerving yet comforting.
She was so absorbed in the yellow eyes of the white wolf she forgot Driver was there, and was startled by the close proximity of his voice. “She's beautiful, isn't she?”
Jaz glanced at his face, not quite meeting his eyes before looking back at the painting. She bobbed her head.
He stood and leaned over to grab something from a shelf, his lower body was very close to her face and she edged back in her seat.